


The Birth of Be’arguth

by MistCover



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M, HS Gift Exchange 2013
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 00:49:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistCover/pseuds/MistCover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave puts off his Christmas shopping until the last possible second. Jade is ready and willing to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Birth of Be’arguth

**Author's Note:**

> My gift to sundaysky for the Homestuck Gift Exchange 2013!

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering gardenGnostic [GG] \-- TG: jade  
TG: jade  
TG: jade  
TG: are you awake  
GG: yes!  
TG: okay cool listen i need your help  
GG: whats wrong? :(  
TG: i fucked up i dont have jack for rose for christmas  
TG: yeah i know its like two days away and im sitting here like  
TG: sweet loot for you and kanaya and karkat and john but rose  
TG: i got shit for rose  
GG: oh no!  
TG: what do i do  
GG: well you could always buy her something small, like candles.  
GG: or a book  
GG: bubble bath  
TG: but is that hilarious enough i mean come on now  
TG: how much do you wanna bet shes already got me this like ten part gift with tiers of irony  
TG: layers and layers of it  
TG: dripping off of the wrapping paper itself  
TG: uh huh  
GG: then were going to have to go!  
TG: go where  
TG: do what  
TG: are you taking me to be sacrificed on an altar  
GG: the mall closes in four hours we have plenty of time to buy a gift  
TG: wait you mean  
TG: right now  
TG: fuck okay let me put on some pants

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering gardenGnostic [GG] \--

 

You struggle to find clothes to wear that don’t utterly suck. Yeah, your entire wardrobe is solid gold I mean come on of course you’re that awesome, but Harley requires a bit more effort. Not that you’ll admit it. You run a comb through your hair and run some water across your face, debating on if you have time for a full shower. Probably not. You don’t smell too rank, anyways, so you might as well just slap on some deodorant and put on your best jeans and an old t shirt. She loves when you wear this one, or at least you think she does, she has a huge girl boner for nostalgia and you’re way over thinking this. You’re going to the mall to buy your bizarre sister a gift, not taking her to the Louvre, Jesus.  
Jade honks her horn instead of bothering to come to your door. You take the stairs two at a time, wallet shoved in your pocket. The last railing is slid down, and you take a bow at the bottom, pushing open the door to walk to her car. She rolls her eyes, reaching across the car to pop open your door. Her torso is covered in what you’re counting as two sweaters, a coat and a scarf, obviously ill prepared for the the bitter chill of the city. The leather is cold, too, and you flinch away from the seat when you sit, pulling your seatbelt across your lap to cover your tracks. Nothing to see here. Move along. She tears away from your building, flicking on the stereo to blast the fucking Squiddles Christmas album. The girl has a real problem with her dumb squids.  


 

“We need a game plan we are not walking into the heart of American culture without some kind of road map that’s just asking to be killed under hordes of desperate last minute shoppers.” You glance over to her, glad your eyes are covered by your shades. She looks a little peeved, her lips a hard line and her teeth just barely digging into her lower lip. It’s adorable. You’d be peeved too if you had to pick up your shitty friend and help him buy a gift at the drop of a hat. Maybe you’ll do something for her. Buy her dinner. Would that be weird? It would probably be weird.  


 

“Well, do you have any ideas?” She takes a sharp left and you grab onto the dash, leaning into the car. “Or a budget?” For a girl who was reared by a dog she doesn’t drive terribly, actually.  


 

“No more than a couple hundred bucks, I have cash to burn.” She snorts and you shrug one shoulder vaguely. “Rose is my sister yeah but what do you think I’m made of money over here, shit, no, DJing pays good and I have all that boonshit from the game but it’s not like-”  


 

“I get it, Dave!” Jade pulls you into the parking lot with surprising speed, throwing the car into park and practically leaping out of it. “Come on, dummy, we have a gift to buy. Unless you’re too cool to get out of the car, that is.” You’re still untangling yourself from your seatbelt when she admonishes you and you grimace, the security mechanism keeping your ass firmly grounded. We do not have lidoff. She leans over you, undoing it for you. As she straightens up, your lips pass within half an inch of each others and both of you freeze, not daring to move. Ha, ha, okay. Okay this is awkward. The most beautiful girl you know is all but in your lap and she’s staring right through your shades, right into your brain or your eyes or whatever freaky weird thing she can see with her dog vision.  


 

You give her a faint smile, using her shoulder as a balancing point to stand up and out of the car. She grabs your waist and you have to side shuffle out of her way, the pair of you swinging around each other. Right. Okay. This is fine, Strider. You have this situation under control.  


 

“Let’s go subject ourselves to some straight-up holiday cheer.” She laughs and loops an arm around yours. With quick, precise steps, she leads you into the mall with her.  


 

It’s a fucking madhouse. Of course it is. What else could you expect, with only days to go till Christmas morning? Parents who still want to play Santa are making last minute adjustments. Disgruntled teens scoot by you in packs, bumping their shoulders, their heads down. A grandma wrangles her grandchildren, her long silver hair making you think of Jade. She’d be a good grandma. And a good mom. She’d be good at a lot of things, actually, it’s pretty unfair. Straight up she could beat you in nearly anything if she set her mind to it. Even, and perhaps most humiliatingly, rap. Shit wait where were you? You’re standing in the middle of the mall like a complete tool, watching these kids sprint like the dumbasses they are.  


 

“Dave? Dave? Earth Dave, come in Dave.” Jade’s on your side and this is getting kind of intimate, she’s pressed against your left hip like she’s gonna pole dance on your pelvis. You don’t push her off.  


 

“Yeah sorry got caught up. Smells like eggnog and sweaty men in Santa suits in here. Not sure I’m equipped for this level of festivity. Could have some kind of holiday-themed breakdown, right now. This instant. Right here. In the middle of the food court.” You sway from foot to foot to emphasize your point.  


 

“Okay, okay, I get it. You’re too cool for Christmas. But come on, I think I see a sale at JoAnn’s.” She points and lo and behold, there is. The sign in front of the store boldly proclaims 15% off everything inside. Isn’t that a bit steep? And knitting supplies? Really.  


 

“I dunno. Seems kinda half assed just to get her more yarn. I mean, she has mountains of it, real fucking scaleable peaks. And over here, I proclaim it to be Mount Wool, where I keep only the scratchiest of my old lady hobby supplies.”  


 

“Okay, do you have any better ideas?” She stares you down, already walking you to the store. When did she take your hand? Why is she leading you? When did this happen? You glance down, where your arm is stretched forward and hers stretched back, legs moving of their own accord through the crowd. Okay, fine, you’ll buy her dumb yarn.  


 

Fifteen minutes, three confused customer service representatives, two wallet fumbles and one near miss with a display shelf and you exit with Jade, carrying a small bag full of red and green yarns and a pair of silver needles that taper to a point you’re fairly certain you could justifiably wield as swordkind. Total cost: $35.  


 

“It doesn’t feel like enough.” You look down at the bag, twisting the plastic handles back and forth. Jade eyes it, practically sticking her nose inside of your purchases.  


 

“Definitely not! We have to get her more.” She puts a hand on her chin (which is adorable), and makes a low ‘hmmmm’ sound. “We could always go with something ironic! That could be cool, right coolkid?” That nickname is so dumb. You don’t know why she still insists on calling you it. You nod, walking to the railing and looking down at the stores below. Mostly children’s stores- Claire’s, Build-A-Bear, the Disney store. Are she and Kanaya planning on adopting anything of their own? How would that even work? You doubt it, but at this point nothing would surprise you. While you’re thinking, Jade walks up behind you, leaning over the railing next to you, her hair flowing in a waterfall over the edge. You grab her, pull her back.  


 

“Careful Harley, Jesus. We don’t want you to get killed in the middle of the holidays. That would be too close to a Lifetime movie for me, all crying moms and dads everywhere as they explain the Very Special Message to their kids. Anyways, yeah. Something ironic.” You look down again. Build-A-Bear beckons. “Oh man. The bears. We could get her a bear. Make it all purple and deck it out in faux-goth bear clothes with like, way too much eyeliner- do they make bear eyeliner? Can we do that?”  


 

“I have eyeliner in my bag. We can make it happen.”  


 

“We’re doing this man. We’re doing this old ass meme c’mon let’s go build the most monstrous bear possible.” The pair of you push through to the bottom floor, walking in to the store like you’re something other than a pair of full grown adults in the middle of a baby store for babies. “Jade, think you can handle the business of dressing Be’arguth the Undying?”  


 

“That is the dumbest name-”  


 

“Come on. She’ll love it. Plus, we get a stupid little birth certificate anyways.” You step to the line, selecting a bear with white fur. Contrast is important! You walk the skin of the animal over to the stuffing station and Jade calls to you from across the store, lifting a purple tutu and black leggings.  


 

“Close enough?” She smiles, waving the items in the air.  


 

“Find a black skull tshirt and some heels and we’ve got this thing in the bag!” You hand the bear over to the bored looking employee, watching it be filled with fluffy cotton. This is so perfect. This bear is going to be perfect. You would laugh if laughter wasn’t entirely uncool. Okay, you giggle. Just a little.  


 

Be’arguth ends up with a purse, a necklace, a bracelet, a black tshirt, leggings, the tutu, and a purple bow for his hair. The total price: way more than you wanted to spend on a fucking joke gift. The two of you rush outside the store, parking yourselves on a bench. Jade rifled through her purse and you examine the bear, pulling it’s little arms and legs.  
“Right. So I have some eyeliner on me, and some red lipstick.”  


 

“Give the bear thick black eyeliner. Can we make his lips black, too?”  


 

“With eyeliner? Sure. What about the red?”  


 

“Do the cheeks. He’s blushing because he knows he’s the shittiest bear to ever be purchased from the family friendly Build-A-Bear workshop.” She laughs, and motions for you to hold it down. With the doll secured in your lap, she gives him thick, black circles, painting on overlarge lips. The lipstick is applied in two perfect dots on his cheeks. When you pick him up, one smears, making it look like he’s crying red blood. Perfect. You smear the other one with your thumb, admiring your handiwork.  


 

It takes you twice as long to get back to the car as it did to get into the mall, the crowds growing thicker and more untamed as you force your way through, merchandise in hand. Jade pulls out of the parking lot in a hurry, tearing away from the mall before you even have a chance to pull on your seatbelt, sending you flying to the door.  


 

Then you are home. Home, and trying to figure out how to say goodbye. On Pesterchum, it’s as easy as saying you have to go and signing out. During the game, goodbyes were usually due to attacks, or, in your case, deaths. Goodbyes now are more strained, less scripted. You shove your hands in your pockets as you walk to your door, Jade trailing behind you.  


 

“It was fun, Dave!” She flashes you the toothiest grin you can imagine. You nod.  


 

“Thanks for rescuing my ass from the disappointment of Rose. It would have been unreal if she knew I had procrastinated so bad on getting a gift, she would have straight up done some kind of gymnastic somersault over my ass depositing me directly into-” You’re shut up by her lips on yours. She’s not demanding, not pushing, just resting there like she has no where else to put her face. You balk, eyes gone wide behind your shades. Shit, what do you do? Do you kiss back? Do you wrap your arms around her? Do you tell her to fuck off? No, you don’t want to tell her to fuck off. Slowly, tentatively, you wind your hands around her waist, watching her closed eyes and blissful expression.  


 

It ends too soon. She blushes, a tint of pink rising on her cheeks. Or it could be the godawful cold. You want to think it was you, though. She gives you a small wave, then turns, bounding back to her car and she’s gone and you didn’t even say anything like a complete, enormous tool bag.  


 

Something tells you, however, that she doesn’t mind.  


 

\-- turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering tentalceTherapist [TT] \--

TG: im pretty sure ive never seen you so flustered  
TG: that was fucking perfect you have to admit  
TG: you just holding this shittastically awful bear  
TG: dave what a lovely gift  
TG: thank you so much  
TG: by the way thanks for the dvds  
TG: pretty sweet loot  
TT: Only because I care.  
TT: Tell me, are you and Jade officially a thing yet?  
TG: a thing  
TT: Yes, a thing.  
TG: why the hell would you think were a thing  
TT: I was keenly aware of the pathetic way you lusted after her while we were unwrapping.  
TT: And she kept giving you "puppy eyes", for lack of a better turn of phrase.  
TG: were not a damn thing  
TT: Mhmm.  
TT: Jade reports otherwise.  
TT: Tell me, is she a good kisser?  
TG: oh no  
TG: oh no jesus  
TG: we are not going into this rose  
TG: i am not talking about my love life with my sister  
TG: thats like me asking you if kanayas good at giving head come on  
TT: Would you like to know?  
TG: no  
TG: no no no no no  
TG: no no no no no no no  
TT: Merry Christmas, Dave.  
TG: yeah you too  
TG: gotta go jades here  
TG: why the hell is she here  
TG: whats happening  
TT: I may have told her you were available for a date.  
TT: Farewell, dear brother.

\-- tentacleTherapist [TT] ceased pestering turntechGodhead [TG] \--


End file.
